


Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

by Soquilii9



Category: Leverage
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:52:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/pseuds/Soquilii9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please disregard any previous canon.  This is a bit of lighthearted fluff to ease the pangs caused by the angst I've been throwing at my readers lately.  It's based off an interview Christian Kane did at a convention recently:<br/>https://www.facebook.com/ChristianKaneNewsAndInfoPage/videos/vb.327663497269188/1019728901395974/?type=2&theater</p>
<p>Disclaimer: The Leverage premise and characters belong to John Rogers and Chris Downey.  The A-Team premise and characters belong to Stephen J. Cannell and Frank Lupo.  Thanks for letting me borrow them, guys!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissVictoria666](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=MissVictoria666).



  


It was late one evening at Leverage, Inc. Sophie, Nate and Parker were doing recon on a job they planned to start the following week. Eliot and Hardison were home alone.

Hardison anticipated a delicious dinner, for Eliot always cooked, but he could only hope to talk his friend into watching an oldie but a goodie - the original Star Wars. It would all depend on Eliot's mood. Ever the optimist, he bounded down the stairs, sniffing the aromatic air appreciably.

'MMMMmmmMMMM! That smells good! What we havin' for dinner, Eliot?'

Eliot shot a glowering glance toward his friend as he worked, patting chicken pieces dry and browning bacon in olive oil for Coq Au Vin. ' _We_ ain't havin' _nothin'._ Go order yourself a pizza. I got company comin'.'

'Aw, _man_! You mean I cain't have none 'o'dat?'

'What'd I just say?'

'Aw _right_ then! Go on, _be_ like that. I see you fixin' plenty, too. Too damn _selfish_ to _share_ ,' Hardison sulked mightily as he flopped onto the couch. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and jabbed at the buttons, auto-dialing the local pizza place. While he placed his order for two large pepperoni deliveries, Eliot expertly browned the chicken. He added carrots and onions and stirred gently. Then came garlic, Cognac, wine, chicken stock and seasonings. The aromas from this combination nearly brought tears to Hardison's dark eyes. Just about the best meal Eliot had come up with and he was stuck with dry, crusty old pizza. The fact that he usually loved pizza was beside the point. Another thought occurred to him: Eliot would have his date on the couch and commandeer the TV. No Star Wars. It was almost more than he could bear.

'Just who's this company you invitin,' Eliot? What's her name? Blonde, brunette or redhead? You always go for dem redheads…'

Eliot hesitated. 'Uh, not a her,' he finally said.

'Not a _her_?' Hardison's curiousity was insatiable. ' _Who_ , then?'

Eliot mopped his brow with his sleeve. 'I'm makin' somethin' special, Hardison … for my father.'

Hardison's eyes went wide with surprise. 'Your … your _father_?'

'Yeah, man, my father! Didn't you know I _had_ a father? You think I was _hatched_ or something?'

Hardison turned his back to hide his expressive face registering a big _Maybe_. 'Well … ok, that's nice. That's really nice, you wanting to do something for your father. How long since you've seen him?'

'Aw, years. But he's in town, so …'

'Tell you what,' Hardison conceded, 'I'll take my pizza and go upstairs. Maybe I can stream something on my laptop.' He didn't see Eliot snicker behind him, teeth flashing in a grin before he assumed his usual fierce demeanor.

'Naw. Naw, man, join us. Have your pizza at the table with us. Look, he'll be here any minute so just stay on the couch. When he comes in I'll introduce you.'

Hardison looked back at his friend, who seemed to be trying to keep a straight face. _Damn, somethin' weird goin' on with that boy tonight,_ he was thinking. Aloud, he said, 'Thanks, man. Appreciate it.'

Hardison turned the big screen on and sat back, waiting. The doorbell rang. _My pizza or Eliot's dad_. Sounds from the entryway told him it wasn't his pizza, so he started flipping channels.

'Come on in and meet my friend, Dad,' Eliot was saying. Hardison stood up, tossed the remote on the couch, and turned to greet Eliot's father.

His jaw dropped to the floor. Hardison seemed to be frozen in place, struck speechless. Eliot ducked behind his dad, trying his best not to bend double laughing.

'What'd I tell ya, Dad? Look at his face! He's in shock!'

'Come on, Eliot, he's y' friend, y'ought not treat 'im like this.' The middle-aged, huge, muscled, very black man with bling all over him ambled over to Hardison, picked up his hand and shook it warmly. 'How you doin', son?'

Hardison squeaked out a response and looked at Eliot. 'How come you never told me …'

'Aw, it's a long story, man,' said Eliot, still grinning.

'You cookin', son? Damn, smells fine! Why don't you finish up and me and Hardison here'll catch him up on some ancient history!' He clapped Hardison on the back and literally led him to the table where Hardison sank gratefully into a chair before his knees gave out. He kept looking at Eliot and back at his Dad and back at Eliot again.

'Ok,' Hardison said. 'You _adopted_ him, right?'

'Naw! He mine! See, son, after the Vietnam War, me and some buddies robbed the Bank of Hanoi - we was under orders, but we still got sent to military prison. Didn't stay there for long, though!'

Hardison was intrigued. 'What'd you do, escape?'

'Damn straight we did. Started working as vigilantes, helpin' people. Lotta money in it, lotta satisfaction. There was four of us. I was the mechanic. M'name's Sgt. Bosco Baracus but everybody called me B. A. - stood for _Bad Attitude_.'

'You sure it wasn't _Bad Ass_ , Dad?' said Eliot, grinning.

'So _that's_ where Eliot gets it. Wait, _what_?' Hardison broke in, confused. 'Yo' names ain't the same.'

'Eliot took his mother's maiden name. We wasn't married, anyway.'

'Ok, so -'

'So anyway,' Baracus continued, 'our team was all vets - _Hannibal, Face, Howlin' Mad_ 'n me - we helled all over the countryside, gettin' jobs where we could, helpin' whoever needed it. We called ourselves the _A-Team_.'

Hardison cocked an eyebrow at Eliot. 'Y'know, this is starting to sound familiar.'

'Y'think?' said Eliot.

'Then one day I met this pretty little waitress in Oklahoma … before another year passed we had us a little boy. He took after her all the way; nobody'd ever figure that boy to be a brother.'

'Y'think?' said Hardison.

Baracus howled with laughter and clapped Hardison on the back.

The doorbell rang.

'That'll be my pizza,' said Hardison.

'Pizza? How come you ordered pizza, son? Smells like Eliot's makin' somethin' mouth-waterin'.'

'Uh, Dad, just to give you some variety. Hardison 'n me, we just thought …'

'Well, y' thought right! I love me some pizza!'

'No foolin'?' said Hardison.

'Ain't no fool, son … I know what's good. Hey, Eliot, when that's done, slide it right over here beside the pizza. We gon' have us a feast tonight!'

Eliot poured wine and set out a six-pack. He grinned as he ladled Coq Au Vin over noodles, leaving enough room for slices of pizza on the big square plates. He set one at each place while Hardison paid for the pizza.

'Leave him a tip this time, Hardison!' he yelled down the entry hall.

Star Wars movie forgotten, Hardison joined Eliot Spencer and B. A. Baracus in the most enjoyable evening they could remember and the most delicious dinner they'd ever eaten. He didn't think of the wisecracks or racial digs he could pepper Eliot with in the future. At this moment all he saw in his friend, at long last, was a bit of himself.

 

The End


End file.
